With the lights out, the action-lava of nostalgia smashes into a plateau,
into a grid touched by its jock sun, the firmament encoded into lulz
with the Jedi vibe of Reddit most foul, of gods enamored with my dump.
I watched Goombas share a sleeping bag and forgiveness wander into gore,
in the ER, hands on the funky chakras of a football mascot.
The animated chatter of the reanimated corpse, though –
in the comments – can you feel Yoshi’s castles?
I have … seen things you people wouldn’t believe.
When I close my eyes, I still see stuff … Christmas circling back
to the blaster in a screenshot, glitching from hobo to robo – to bro –
spawning milkshake in its casual death, chiming relativeto its mortal throwback, adorable as jelly latching onto fear.